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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24260797">A white knight in a wolf's pelt</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/maugrim/pseuds/maugrim'>maugrim</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Episode Two Marks AU, Feral!Jaskier, Gen, Intoxication, M/M, Poisoning, Prejudice, a bit of pining, bed sharing, pining!Jaskier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:41:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,003</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24260797</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/maugrim/pseuds/maugrim</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>At first Jaskier followed the witcher for one adventure and because the man was gorgeous…until he got another reason. </p><p>– Or Jaskier didn’t decide to help with Geralt’s reputation before the elves, but only the night afterwards.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia &amp; Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>95</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A white knight in a wolf's pelt</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This turned out to deal more with prejudice than originally planned but I don’t think this is a bad thing.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jaskier was plucking on the strings of the new elven lute. She was a beauty with her intricate carvings all over her body. He wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t possess a little bit of magic. While he still felt like mourning his previous one, the one he had bought from hard earned money after all, maybe this one was maybe an appropriate replacement. Not every bard could call an elven made lute his own; he knew for a fact, the Valdo Marx couldn’t, that scoundrel.</p><p>But, oh, what a day this had been. If someone had told him this morning, that he would meet a witcher - and quite a handsome one at that which was just proof that the rumours were nothing more but rumours -, meet the rumoured Devil of Posada and end up getting kidnapped by elves, he would have probably called them a fool. And yet here they were, on their way to the next town for a drink and a hopefully a bed, maybe even with some company.</p><p>He was walking a few paces behind the brown mare and this very handsome witcher who may or may not know how flattering these leather pants were for his lovely bottom.<br/>
To be fair, he had known he wanted to follow this man to edge of the world which, in the end, he pretty much had. Jaskier had been intrigued the moment he had spotted him sitting in that dark corner of the inn in Posada. There had been an air of danger around him and well, Jaskier wouldn’t be Jaskier if this alone hadn’t sparked his interest. Sure, this had gotten him into trouble a time or two, but he had temporarily lost all experience charming people. Really, “bread in his pants”, he was lucky if this never got back to anyone in Oxenfurt – or people he knew or wanted to get to know.</p><p>But this man hadn’t been just any witcher, no it had been “Geralt of Rivia, the butcher of Blaviken” himself. If this man couldn’t tell stories, then who could? If only the man was only a little more talk active. So, instead he had followed along, in hopes that the Devil of Posada would make a better story – or a story more fit for the simple audience in most of the taverns – than what he had presented them thus far. They probably wouldn’t throw stale bread after him anymore and value his craft more.</p><p>*</p><p>It was nightfall, when they reached the next town. They had taken up a table in the back of the guestroom to avoid the glares thrown Geralt’s way and were already a couple mugs of ale down. An outsider would think that the witcher didn’t care much for the glares and the hushed whispers but Jaskier had noticed the muscles jumping in Geralt’s jaw as he gritted his teeth. He wasn’t as immune to the talking behind his back as he made it seem.</p><p>Jaskier thought he shouldn’t be surprised by this. Geralt had already proven himself to be a different man then the rumours had painted him to be. While he may be wearing a hard and repelling mask, but there was also a softness and vulnerability underneath. Otherwise he wouldn’t have given Filavandrel the advice to show the people that he was more than they believed him to be. A life lesson Geralt must have learned himself, so he could live among the people and not get killed by them. It had shown Jaskier how smart and self-reflective this man was. Someone who only butchered people for fun, like the rumours had said, might not waste any thoughts to think about these kinds of things. It was evidence that Geralt was very much capable of human emotion. So much for, witchers don’t feel emotions and all that rott.</p><p>Another thing the rumours had gotten wrong or at least didn’t tap into, had been a witcher’s alcohol consumption. Who knew that Geralt of Rivia couldn’t hold his liquor very well? </p><p>Jaskier was resting his head in his palm, while he looked at the witcher. He noticed how Geralt’s gaze was unfocussed and his pupils had widened to dark pits. He seemed to have trouble reaching for his mug. Jaskier wouldn’t say they had drunk much, he himself was barely tipsy and while he didn’t know how exactly the biology of a witcher’s body worked, something seemed wrong. There was an uneasy feeling in his gut that had nothing to do with his own alcohol consumption.</p><p>Jaskier stood and put a hand on Geralt’s shoulder. “Come on, you big guy, up you go! This is enough. There’s a room for us upstairs.”<br/>
Geralt slowly looked up at him, as Jaskier reached around him and slung Geralt’s bag of sword around one shoulder. The bard hold out his hand and helped him stand. Geralt was wavering slightly and Jaskier wrapped an arm around his waist to steady him. He put one of Geralt’s arms around his neck.<br/>
He could feel the eyes on them as they crossed the room. Jaskier noticed the barmaid and the innkeep sticking their heads together and having a hushed conversation while sneaking glazes over to them.<br/>
Jaskier shot them a smile and called loudly. “He probably had a bit too much drink.”<br/>
He helped Geralt up the stairs. Geralt’s breathing was hot and heavy against his neck. Their room was the last one on the hallway. Jaskier kicked the door open before helping Geralt in.</p><p>With a sigh Geralt sunk down on the bed. Jaskier put his lute and Geralt’s bag down before kneeling in front of him. He put a hand against Geralt’s cheek and forced him to look into his eyes. His irises were just thin rings of gold around his widened pupils.<br/>
“Geralt, look at me, what’s wrong?”<br/>
“Poison”, he grunted and started to fumble with the straps of his armour.<br/>
“Okay.” He took a deep breath. “Alright. What do we do? Should I get a healer?”<br/>
Geralt closed his eyes and shook his head. Sweat was beading on his forehead, sticking strands of his hair to his skin. “There’s an antidote in my saddle bags.”<br/>
“Yeah, right, be right back.” Jaskier rushed out of the room.</p><p>People’s gazes were following him as he stormed through the guest room and outside to the stables.<br/>
Roach turned her head when he approached. He gave her a quick pat on the neck, before opening one of the saddle bags. There were glass bottles inside. He pulled two of them out and held them against the light.<br/>
“Hello, darling. I don’t think you can help me finding the potion against poison?” The bottles had no labels on them to identify their contents. But that might have been too easy anyway.<br/>
Roach snorted loudly. “Yeah, didn’t think so. Oh, whatever, I’ll take them all.” He loosened the straps and slung the leather bag over his shoulder before rushing back inside the tavern.</p><p>The innkeep stepped into his path and blocked his way to the staircase. “Why are you in such a hurry?”<br/>
Jaskier scowled. “I’m trying to save a man from the poison you put in his drink. Now let me through!”<br/>
The man’s expression darkened. “Don’t you know what that beast is, boy? Who he is? You should be thankful to get rid of him so easily.”<br/>
Rage was running hot through his body and Jaskier flashed his teeth. “I know very well who and what he is. Maybe even better than you do. You disgust me! You people don’t deserve him! - Now, if you don’t mind?” With that he shoved the man out of the way before storming up the stairs.</p><p>Geralt had gotten most of his armour off when he came back, chest still heaving with rage and adrenaline. The leather pieces lay in a pile in front of him.<br/>
Jaskier locked the door behind him.<br/>
“What happened?”<br/>
“I might have just pissed the innkeeper off. We should leave the first thing in the morning.” He took a deep breath and tried to calm his breathing and rapidly beating hard.<br/>
The witcher huffed. “Great.”</p><p>Geralt had sunken back into the bed, his black shirt half unbuttoned to reveal a pale, scarred chest. Jaskier’s rage shifted, replaced by something else entirely. Oh, if the situation was only different and Geralt not intoxicated and able to think straight, he would have very much enjoyed this view, but now, Jaskier decided, the priorities lay elsewhere. </p><p>“I didn’t know which one’s you wanted, so I brought them all.” He announced before sitting next to the man on the bed and pulling out the collection of vials. Geralt squinted at them before taken one out of his hands and downing it in one go. Grimacing he handed the empty vial back. Jaskier watched as the shudder ran through his body.<br/>
„Will you be alright?“<br/>
The witcher didn’t open his eyes. „Yeah.”</p><p>Jaskier reached into the saddle bags again and pulled a strip of cloth out, probably it was for bandaging wounds, He stood and walked over to the wash basin in the corner. There was some water in there. He dipped the cloth in and wrung the excess water out before coming back to Geralt’s side. </p><p>“I always wanted to be a knight as a child.” Geralt’s voice was quiet.<br/>
“Oh? What kind of knight?” He started to wipe the sweat off his brow while starting to hum a melody under his breath.<br/>
“One of these honourable ones. The ones that slay dragons and save princesses.”<br/>
Jaskier let out an amused huff. He tried to picture the witcher as a young boy fighting imaginary dragons. It brought a smile to his lips.<br/>
“But isn’t this what you’re doing right now? Slaying dragons and protecting maidens?”<br/>
A low, displeased rumbling noise came out of Geralt’s throat. “People hate witchers. They run away screaming as soon as you kill their monsters for them. That is, if they don’t throw stones after you.” Whatever this poison or this combination of potions were, it surely made him talk.<br/>
Jaskier would have expected to hear bitterness in his voice but the utter lack of emotion in his voice makes it even worse. As if he had gotten used to this behaviour. Sympathy bloomed in Jaskier’s chest.</p><p>They stayed silent for a while. Geralt’s breath got deeper as the potion worked against the poison in his veins. With a sigh Jaskier stood and shrugged out of his doublet. There wasn’t much space left in the bed, but it would do for tonight. He lay down on the other side, his body curling into the free space and against the body next to him. He should have ordered them both a bath but he wouldn’t wake Geralt up now again.</p><p>What would he have done if Jaskier hadn’t been there tonight? Just let the poison run its course, maybe end up passed out next to Roach in the stables, defenseless and at people’s mercy? He didn’t want to think about it. Maybe he could continue to travel with him and they could have each other’s back. For the first day, the two of them had worked quite well together. Also, Jaskier had always been a bit of an adrenaline junkie.</p><p>His thoughts drifted back to Geralt’s confession. A witcher, the white wolf, who wanted to be a white knight. Maybe he could assist him in this quest. He was a bard after all, maybe he could be this witcher’s barker and help this scarred knight to get his reputation back. Maybe this was the chance to make a difference in the world - for his own, as well this white wolf‘s sake.<br/>
“I’m gonna make this happen!”, he whispered into the quite room. A vow he intended to keep.<br/>
With a sigh of contempt, he huddled closer to Geralt and let himself drift to sleep. He would start planning tomorrow, after they made a quick escape from this town.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This was just a quick idea - mainly that Jaskier wanted to help Geralt's reputation/following him after knowing that Geralt wanted to be a knight as a child.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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